Bloodstained Passion
by ladyfatale
Summary: Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett begin a torrid affair, but will he be able to forget his past? When his revenge is fulfilled, and his lust for blood quenched, will he be able to accept his future and open his heart to love again?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

…_His hand travelled down the length of her spine, making her shiver through the fabric of her dress. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, the moisture of his mouth on her collarbone. "Mr. T…" she breathed, their mouths coming together, melting into one another. She felt his hand on her cheek, his eyes staring wildly into her own. Still keeping his gaze locked on her, his hands moved upwards and they began to slowly and deliberately unlace her dress, exposing a line of white flesh. She muttered his name in delight, knowing that in a moment he would satisfy her every need…_

Nellie Lovett awoke with a gasp, her already heavy heart sinking as she looked around her gloomy bedroom. _Just a dream, just a bloody dream._ She had been dreaming again, of him. She put a hand to her face, the touch she had so vividly felt in her dream still tingling on her skin. She knew he was upstairs, in a deep sleep that did not involve her, nor ever would. She was invisible to him, a mere instrument in his planned revenge against the ruthless Judge Turpin. Not that she blamed him, really. The blasted judge had taken everything from him, his wife, his daughter, and ultimately, his life and the man he used to be. With a heavy sigh she got herself out of bed, dressed herself and fixed her hair before making her way down to the kitchen where she found Toby waiting, his eyes wide with a big grin on his face.

" Mornin' mum!" he chirped.

"Good Morning, love," answered Mrs. Lovett, smiling at the boy as she lightly ruffled his hair. "Sit down and I'll make ya some breakfast, eh?" she said.

"I can 'elp you, mum, if you like," came Toby's quick reply.

"I'm fine, dear, but would you mind goin' to fetch Mr. T for me? Tell 'im 'is breakfast will be ready soon."

"'Course I will!" and with that he raced out the door, his footsteps banging up the staircase as he ran to Mr. Todd's room. Mrs. Lovett smiled to herself. _What a sweet lad._ She really did love that child. She had wanted a son since she was a little girl, for a long as she could remember. Toby was the answer to that. He was a splash of light in her otherwise gloomy days.

Her large dark eyes snapped to the door as she heard two sets of footsteps descending. Her usual touch of panic at this set in as she quickly eyes her reflection in a shiny metal pan, fiddling with her hair before hastily getting back to the tea she had put on the stovetop. The door to the kitchen opened, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. It was him- Sweeney Todd. He was the man who dominated her every thought, her every desire and fantasy. She shook herself slightly, tearing her eyes of his strong, dark form. "Morning, Mr. T!" she chirped, a little too loud and brightly, wincing at how that had come out.

"Morning," he grunted in reply, roughly yanking a chair out and sitting himself down in silence. Toby sat down across from him, nervously avoiding eye contact with Sweeney. Mrs. Lovett could feel the tension building in the room, her hands shaking slightly as she prepared the toast and eggs, pouring two cups of tea for herself and Sweeney.

"Here ya go, love," she said, placing a plate of toast and eggs in front of Sweeney. He grunted in thanks, picking up his fork and digging in. Toby was well close to finishing by the time she sat down herself. Keeping her gaze on Sweeney, she slowly sipped her tea. _He really is beautiful, even brooding as he is. _Sweeney continued to sit in silence, unusual even to himself. Strangely enough, their gazes kept finding their way back to each other's, before quickly snapping away.

With a loud clank Toby dropped his fork and knife. "Well, thanks for breakfast mum, gonna get a start on cleaning up around the shop," he said, breaking the silence.

"Thanks, love. What would I do without you," replied Mrs. Lovett with a small smile. Toby quickly walked out of the room, leaving Sweeney and herself to themselves. _He'll never know, really, how much I want him. _The truth was, she did want him. Terribly. It was a consuming type of love, she had for him. A need that only he could fulfill. Nellie Lovett had never really felt love, never really believed in it. Not until she met Benjamin Barker, the tenant who lived with his wife and daughter in the room over her meat pie shop. He treated her with the kindness and warmth that had been so long missing from her life, the kind of warmth she never got from her husband, Albert. It was the terrible Judge Turpin who had taken Mr. Barker away, sending him unjustly to prison. When he returned, he was not the gentle, proper Mr. Barker she had dreamt would return, but a new man. A man reborn by the power of hate and vengeance. Strangely enough, it was this man that she so desired. Not Benjamin, but Sweeney.

"Do you bloody ever stop staring, woman?" came Sweeney's voice, sharply piercing her thoughts. She shook herself, realizing she had been staring straight at him for a good minute or so.

"Sorry, Mr. T. Right lost track of me thoughts, I did," she spluttered he eyes growing wide and flustered. _Why am I like this around him?_ He nodded, in a sort of acceptance to her excuse. She got up off the chair, beginning to clean up the dishes. Walking over to the sink, she set them down on the countertop, watching Mr. Todd as he got up himself, and made his way over to the doorway. Strangely, he stopped momentarily as he passed behind her. She felt his hand brush against her shoulder as she looked around to see him staring down at her with a strange look in his eye.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lovett, for the breakfast," was all he said, eyeing her up and down before striding out of the room to open his barber shop. Mrs. Lovett stared after him, her breath stopping for a moment. There was something strange in the way he had looked at her. A spark she had never before seen in the normally hollow, dark eyes of Sweeney Todd. A spark that looked almost like…_it couldn't be…_desire? She thought back to her dream the night before, all the little fantasies that kept her awake long after she blew out her bedside candle. _Mr. T_…She felt the all too familiar tingling feeling between her legs at the thought of him. She could not get those eyes; that look out of her head as she began to slowly wash the dishes. _Mr. T…_She knew she was a dreamer, and this may just be another one of her foolish imaginings, but for some reason it seemed as if this one might just be different. _Maybe you have a chance after all, Nellie. Maybe the ominous Sweeney Todd is closer to reach than you may think. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The dinner rush was busier than usual; making it a good thing Mr. Todd's barber shop was busy that night. When the last customers finally left with a curt thank you and farewell, Mrs. Lovett breathed a sigh of relief. She sat down at one of the tables, her eyes shut, trying to ignore her aching legs.

"That was quite the rush just now, eh mum?" said Toby and he cleared plates off the tables. Mrs. Lovett opened her eyes.

"That it was, dear," she sighed, getting up to wash the dishes. Her feet throbbed in protest, and she winced as she began to scrub a plate. "I'll just finish up 'ere, then go bring Mr. Todd 'is tea."

"S'alright, mum. You go bring 'im the tea, an I'll finish up here," Toby said, coming to take the dirty plate from her.

"Thank you, love," replied Mrs. Lovett, who then poured a cup of tea for Mr. Todd. Smiling again at Toby, she left the kitchen and walked up the staircase to Mr. Todd's room. Taking a breath, she creaked the door open a bit, lightly knocking on the doorframe. Not hearing an answer, she pushed it open all the way. Sweeney's eyes looked to her suddenly from where he sat in his barber's chair. "Brought you your tea, dear," she said, setting the cup and saucer down on a table. "What are you broodin' away up 'ere for?" she asked, "Wouldn't you like to come downstairs?"

Sweeney shook his head, getting up off the chair and standing across the room from her. He moved his gaze up the length of her body, noting the way her corset raised her already full breasts higher, before his eyes locked onto her own large, dark ones. He winced, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the rough fabric of his pinstripe pants was becoming. Abruptly turning around, he looked over the dark, smoke-filled pit that was London. _You're thoughts are supposed to be on the Judge, Sweeney. _Though against his will, he continued to find his thoughts kept returning _her. _"Love?" came Mrs. Lovett's voice, Sweeney turned to face her again. Her eyes were full of confusion. "Well, I'd better be getting' back downstairs, give a bi' o' help to Toby down there," she said, beginning to turn around.

"No!" bellowed Sweeney, and before Mrs. Lovett could open her mouth in reply, she found herself slammed against the wall, staring back into Sweeney's narrowed, incredibly _lust filled _eyes.

"Mr. T?" she asked, softly, but she was silenced when Sweeney brought his mouth down on hers, greedily, and hungrily kissing her. Searching every bit of her mouth with his tongue. When they broke away from each other, he looked down at her with a small smirk on his face. "What are you doing?" she gasped, looked wide-eyed at him.

"I am doing what I want, Mrs. Lovett, and what I want right now is you," his voice replied, now husky with arousal. With that, he claimed her mouth again, kissing her deeply. She pressed back against the wall as he ran his hands up and down her body, moving his mouth downwards to kiss her neck. "Ooh, Mr. T…" she whispered, moving her hands to lace tightly through his hair as he kissed and nipped his way back up her neck and jaw line, growing more frenzied by the second. Mrs. Lovett let out a low moan, the desire in the pit of her stomach growing stronger. She raised her eyes to look at his, and with another smirk, he began to lift her heavy skirts upwards, revealing her striped stockings and bloomers.

"These…need…to come…off," he said, between breaths.

"But, Mr. T!" protested Mrs. Lovett, though the idea didn't seem too dreadful.

"_Off_!" Sweeney rasped. Obligingly, she removed the bloomers, now wet with her arousal. Sweeney began to lift the many layered skirts again, sliding his hand up the smooth skin of her leg, teasingly lingering at the top of her thigh for a moment, before moving his hand to her most intimate area, already wet and ready for him. Her body completely relaxed, collapsing against him with a heavy sigh. He began to rub her, felt her tensing up against him, her breathing growing more rapid, conjoining with his own breaths in a delicious harmony. He rubbed harder, pressing and massaging with a steady rhythm. Mrs. Lovett let out another moan. Sweeney knew what the inevitable end of this was, and without prolong it any further; unzipped his trousers and slid into her. She let out a gasp as he entered, and they worked their way to a steady pace, growing faster and more frantic as their arousal heightened. She let out a shriek, throwing her head back, him pounding her hard into the wall with each thrust as they explosively climaxed. A moment later found them limp fully entwined with each other against the wall, shaking and gasping from the intensity. Sweeney pulled out of her, giving her a look that held too many emotions to read properly. His breathing ragged, he zipped his trousers again.

"Mr. T!" she managed to choke out, her arms still gripped tightly to his as he straightened himself out. "I…I never th-thought…" she trailed off.

"There's nothing to think about, Mrs. Lovett," he said, his voice hard again, though still shaking slightly. "I…I merely lost myself." Mrs. Lovett stared at the man in front of her. The eyes so thick with desire a moment ago were cold and hard again, looking at her without any readable emotion. _I will never understand him._ She bent down to lift her bloomers off the floor, and put them on again. Sweeney had by now moved to stand by his window, gazing over London again. She turned to leave the room, stopping near the doorway.

"Your tea's cold, love," she said softly, a little above a whisper, and without another word she walked out the door, letting it close behind her with a dull thud. Sweeney turned around to stare at the now closed door, hearing her footsteps and she slowly made her way back down the stairs. He walked over to the table, picking up the now cold cup of tea. He took a sip anyways, listening as the downstairs door shut. _You merely lost yourself, Sweeney. Nothing more than that. You just lost yourself. _He repeated that over and over in his mind, but all he could think of was _her_, Mrs. Lovett. He thought back to the way she had looked at him before, her gaze filled with pent up desire. Of course, he knew she was desperately in love with him. He could tell by the way her tone changed ever so slightly when she spoke with him, the way her eyes lingered on him a little too long. _Silly woman_. He would never love her; it was never even a possibility. His heart –what was still left of it- belonged to Lucy. Beautiful, gentle, virtuous Lucy. He had never had an experience like that with Lucy, though. His desire had never so fully been filled. His thoughts went back to her, Mrs. Lovett. The way her eyes grew even wider, the mess of auburn curls on top of her head. She seemed to keep finding her way back into his thoughts lately, and he could do nothing about that. _You merely lost yourself_…He told himself that again and again, as if we had to fight to believe it. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not get her face out of his mind…

…Mrs. Lovett entered the kitchen, her heart heavy again. Toby had done most of the cleaning already, and he lay face down on one of the tables, fast asleep. She smiled at the sight, washing and drying the last plate and setting it back on the shelf. Her mind flickered back to the experience of just a few minutes ago. Her lips parted slightly as his face floated through her mind, beautiful in all its threatening darkness. She had never expected that to happen, not at all. It was all so sudden, passionate and fiery one moment, then afterwards back to it was before. As if nothing had happened at all.

She got dressed for bed quickly, lay down, and blew out her candle. Replaying the past events in her mind, she let out a light sigh. She did not know what the next day would hold, if anything would be different, but as she drifted nearer and nearer to sleep, all she knew was that the one person on her mind all night long, the one person she would see in her dreams, would be Sweeney Todd…


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, so here's the third chapter to Bloodstained Passion, so sorry for the wait. First though, I'd like to give a biiig thanks to everyone who's been reviewing so far. Seriously, it's so great to hear what you guys think. It's my first fanfic and all, and I'm always really nervous and hoping it's turned out good for you all. **

**In our last chapter, it seemed like our dear Mr. T was in a bit of denial, but don't worry, we'll get him to open up sooner or later… ;)**

**Anyways, enough of my rambling and on to chapter three!**

Chapter 3

Sweeney paced angrily in his shop, back and forth from one end to the other. He stopped in front of the window, taking in the soot covered city. Still seething he thought of what had happened the night before. _Blasted woman!_ He wasn't supposed to be doing this, wasn't supposed to be feeling anything for that baker woman. He tried in vain to chase her out of his mind with thoughts of Lucy, but even his darling Lucy's face was growing blurrier and blurrier in his head. _I'm sorry, Lucy. So sorry. _He took in a breath, raspy with anger. Sweeney Todd was not supposed to feel anything, but that stupid Mrs. Lovett was making that a hell of a difficulty. It wasn't that he had any romantic feelings for her, any possibility for that had died with Benjamin, but he had a certain soft spot for the wide-eyed baker woman who lived downstairs. "Dammit!" he shouted, pounding a fist onto the streaky glass. He heard someone clear their throat behind him, and he whirled around to see a very confused looking Mrs. Lovett staring at him.

"Breakfast's ready, love…if you'd like to come down…" she said, her voice trailing off as she looked on.

"Yes, of course," Sweeney gruffly replied, avoiding her gaze.

"Alright, then," Mrs. Lovett said as she went back down the stairs. Sweeney let out a heavy sigh, and with one last look over London, left the room as well and walked downstairs.

An awkward silence seemed to hang over the table as the three of them ate breakfast. Mrs. Lovett quietly was sipping her tea, Toby chewing toast in silence, and Sweeney staring down into his own tea, trademark scowl in place. "Will you pass the cream, love?" Mrs. Lovett broke the silence. Sweeney nodded, slowly lifting the ceramic dish over the table, brushing her hand with his as he handed it to her. She gave him a small smile, which he surprisingly returned. Toby was sensing a difference in the relationship between the two adults, and kept as silent as he could, noting the small glances they gave each other that seemed to hold a lot more than he was meant to know. Mrs. Lovett finished her tea, and sat twirling an auburn curl round her finger, before abruptly dropping her fork to her plate with a loud clank. "My, my, my… so much to be done before the shop opens today, eh?" she said, hastily collecting everyone's dishes, not noticing that Toby was only half finished, and dropped them into the sink where they all but shattered. "Toby, love, would you run to the market and fetch more flour? I've run meself, out, I did," she spewed out, filling the sink with water.

"Yes, mum!" Toby replied, racing out the door, but not quick enough to miss seeing Mr. Todd walk over to Mrs. Lovett, snaking his arm around her waist. His eyes widened at the sight, but he ran off to the market before they'd see him looking.

Mrs. Lovett watched Sweeney get up off his chair and make his way over to where she was by the sink. She felt his arm move around her waist. "Is something on your mind, Mrs. Lovett? You seem rather…tense," he said, tightening his grip in the slightest. Mrs. Lovett let the dish she was rinsing drop into the sink, her eyes falling shut as she let out a light breath.

"You're the only one on me mind, now, Mr. T…" she sighed, sinking into him a little more. Sweeney stopped suddenly in his tracks. _What are you doing, you bloody fool? You already messed things up enough as it is! _His instincts were overcoming his thoughts though, and almost without thinking, he brought his mouth down near her ear.

"I want you later, Mrs. Lovett…tonight" he growled, nipping her ear slightly, and with that he stalked out of the room. Most likely to set up his shop for the day. Mrs. Lovett stared after him, her lips parting slightly with desire.

From the moment the sign was turned to display "Open", it seemed, the crowds began to get heavier and heavier. Words was most definitely getting out about the delicious tasting pies at Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium, and it seemed that the whole of London came daily to have a taste. Sweeney's business was booming as well, as word of his reputation as an talented barber was on the lips of what seemed like every well-groomed gentleman in the city. The dinner rush at the pie shop seemed to grow busier every day. It was an interesting existence, she had often thought to herself. Her and Mr. T each with their own shops, serving the customers pies made from previous…customers. _Those above serving those down below, _she thought with a small chuckle, as she placed a plate of pies down at a table. Realizing she had completely run out, she quickly made her way down to the bakehouse, where she pulled a tray of pies out of the furnace, and dashed back up the stairs, the tray balanced on her arm ascended the long flight of stone steps back into the kitchen. She had just set the tray on the countertop to cool before serving, when she felt a pair of arms move their way around her waist. "You're supposed to be in your shop," she said, without even turning around.

"No one's come in for a good ten minutes. Besides…the dinner rush is almost over," came Sweeney's voice, already husky.

"Not over yet, love, still got meself a few more trays to serve," Mrs. Lovett replied, moving herself out of his grip and looking him squarely in the face.

"Customers can wait," he rasped, moving downwards to kiss her neck. Mrs. Lovett pushed him away.

"Only a little while longer, dear," she said, hurrying out of the kitchen with the tray of pies, leaving Sweeney staring after her.

It seemed like hours before the last group of customers cleared out, and Mrs. Lovett hastily tidied up the plates left behind. Her legs throbbed with pain from the day, and she leaned against the countertop with a heavy sigh, pouring herself a tumbler of gin. She grimaced as it burned its way down, setting the cup back on the counter. Toby had gone to bed already, and with Mr. T still in his shop, the place seemed more silent than ever.

The silence was broken, however, when she heard a harsh clearing of a throat behind her. She smiled to herself, not yet turning around. "Well, who might that be then?" she asked, teasingly. She felt the cool blade of a razor find its way around her neck to rest at her throat, and she let out a sigh knowing whose hands were at the end of that razor.

"I believe you have an appointment, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney whispered, his lips grazing against her ear as he spoke.

"I don't want to end up in a pie, if that's what you're implying…" she answered, trailing off slightly as he began moving his hands to slowly inch her dress off her shoulders as she leaned backwards into his chest. He began to kiss her shoulders, moving her dress lower down on her arms.

"I don't know about that, Mrs. Lovett, but right now you're looking quite…delicious…" he answered, nipping at her neck and jawline. _You're being ridiculous, Sweeney, _he thought as he moved his hands downward to grasp her ample breasts, made even more pronounced by the tightly laced corset she wore. She let out a gasp, turning around to kiss him on his mouth, her tongue entwining with his as she explored every bit of his hot mouth. He reached his arms around her, pressing her back against the counter as he began to unlace her dress. Mrs. Lovett broke away, gasping.

"…Bedroom…now…" she managed to rasp, taking his hand tightly in hers as she quickly pulled him to her room. There was no lighting save for one slowly melting candle in the corner, making the sharp angles of his face even more darkly alluring. "Now I'm yours…" she breathed, sinking into him as he resumed unlacing her dress until it fell in a heavy heap at the heels of her boots. _Mine?..._ He questioned himself as he stared down at her. The idea was absurd, though they had gone too far already to turn back. _What's one more time?_ He thought to himself, though as he looked down at her he was nearly taken aback at how lovely her eyes looked in the candlelit darkness. "Love?" she asked softly, touching him lightly on the shoulder. With that, he brought his mouth down hard on hers, scooping her up in him arms and almost violently throwing her down on the bed. He almost frantically unlaced her corset and pulled off her bloomers, throwing them unceremoniously against the wall. "You're bloody astonishing, Mr. T," she breathed, sucking in a breath as he slid into her. They frantically went to it, climaxing hard as fast, afterwards laying out of breath on the bed in each other's bruising grip. Still panting, Mrs. .Lovett looked over to Sweeney, who was staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard. "Are ya going to stay tonight, love?" she carefully asked, moving her hand across the sheets to touch his shoulder. Sweeney slowly turned his head to look at her. _Is she bloody joking? _He froze for a moment, looking back into her eyes, wide with hopefulness. There was something about those large, dark eyes of hers that made him nod his head slowly. "Thank you, love," she answered, moving herself over to put her arm around him and smiling up at him through the auburn curls that fell around her eyes. Sweeney was slightly taken aback, though he did respond, slowly moving his arm to place across her body. Mrs. Lovett was astounded by this. "Goodnight, Mr. T…" she said, trying to keep the glee out of her voice. Sweeney paused a moment, not knowing quite how to respond.

"Goodnight…Mrs. Lovett," he finally let out, almost seeing the smile on her face through the darkness as she nestled into him even more tightly, leaning her head against his shoulder. _It's soothing, in a way, _Sweeney thought, feeling Mrs. Lovett's steady breathing beneath his arm… _and what will one night hurt?..._

**Well, there you go, loves. Chapter 3. Save for the extra bit of smut I threw in at the end for good measure (hehhehe you know I can't resist a good Sweenett scene!), this was a bit of a filler chapter. Not to worry though, darlings, this is all leading up somewhere. There'll be **_**plenty**_** more in the very near future, I promise. Love to you all!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Hey everybody! I'm sooo sorry for that ridiculous wait, school's just begun so it's been a little crazy. My apologies! Many thanks for all the reviews. I have to admit, every time I get one of those it makes my day! Haha. Anyways, here's chapter 4 for you, loves!**

Mrs. Lovett awoke to the feeling of Mr. T breathing beneath her cheek. She opened her eyes, staring into his chest. _Did last night really happen? _She shook herself slightly, realizing with awe that it was not just another one of her dreams, but it was real this time. Mr. T had actually stayed the night with her. She could not resist letting a wide smile creep on to her face. She reached her arm over to lightly touch his face. The hard angles were so cold looking even in sleep. He snapped his eyes open suddenly, making her gasp in a slight fear. "Mrs. Lovett…" he said, looking around in what seemed like angered confusion. _What the hell came over me last night?_

"Morning, love," she answered, giving him a small smile. "Last night was wonderful, don't ya think?" Sweeney looked at her stunned for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief, abruptly sitting up, ripping the thin bedsheets off of him. Looking down, he realized he was not dressed, and harshly grabbed his trousers and shirt from the floor, thrusting them on, growing more infuriated by the second. "Mr. T…please," pleaded Mrs. Lovett, frantically reaching for her nightgown which lay in a heap at the foot of the bed. She looked up at him, laying a hand on his arm.

"NO!" he bellowed, slapping her hand off of him. "I don't know what came over me but it was most definitely a mistake that I will not be repeating," he said as he buttoned up his shirt. Mrs. Lovett pulled her nightgown over her as she got off the bed.

"I'm sorry, dear, really," she said, rushing behind him, trying to pull him back by his shirt fabric as he stalked across the room to turn around in front of the door and shove her off of him. Mrs. Lovett stared up at him, his dark eyes were flashing in anger. He was frightening like this. Times like these were when she remembered what kind of a person Sweeney Todd was.

"We won't speak of this, again, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney fumed, his voice shaking in anger as looked down at her once more before striding out of the room, through the kitchen, and back upstairs nonetheless.

"Love, please!" Mrs. Lovett pleadingly shouted from the door, leaning against it as tears sprang to her eyes. She heard the sound of movement from the kitchen, and looked over to see a frightened looking Toby staring back at her.

"Mum?" he said, his voice quivering. "Is everything alright?"

"Course it is, love. N-nothing to worry about, really," she quietly stammered, hastily wiping tears off her cheeks as she turned her face from his.

"He stayed the night in your room, didn't he?" Toby demanded. "I saw him leave!" he nearly shouted, anger he didn't know he had creeping into his tone. Mrs. Lovett looked at him in alarm.

"Now listen, dear…that's not for you to-"

"He's made you cry, mum," Toby interrupted, walking over to where she stood in the doorframe. Mrs. Lovett smiled down at him. His eyes were so wide with compassion. She moved her arm around his shoulders, shutting her eyes and letting out a sigh

"S'nothing to worry about, love. S'only me…" she trailed off, her voice catching from the lump still in her throat.

"I can't just watch him hurt you, mum, I can't!" Toby exclaimed, burying his face against her. "You're in love with him but he does this you! I hate him!" he cried, his voice breaking with tears.

"Hush, love. It's not as bad as that, really. He…he doesn't mean it," she said, stroking his hair once more before taking him by the shoulders to look him squarely in the eye. "Now look, dear, why don't I make us some breakfast and we'll forget all about this, alright?" she said. Toby reluctantly nodded, looking down as he went to go sit at the table.

"Shall I go fetch Mr. Todd? Once breakfast is ready, I mean," Toby asked. Mrs. Lovett stopped from where she was behind the counter.

"S'alright, dear. I don't think Mr. T will be coming down today…" she trailed off, biting her lip as she went back to the pot of tea she was heating up. Toby's eyes followed her around the dimly lit kitchen. _He stayed with her last night. In her room! _The thought to him was near unbelievable, but he had seen him walk out her door this morning. In a rage, it had seemed. Toby had known all those sort of things, even from a young age. He had seen more than his fair share of strange relationships back at the workhouse. He had also always known that Mrs. Lovett fancied Mr. T, but he had always failed to understand what she saw in him. _She deserves better. _He had seen enough rotten people in his past to know a good heart when he saw one, and Mrs. Lovett was one of those. She was the closest thing he had ever had to a mother, and he loved her with all his heart. He could not deny himself, though, the tiny twinge of jealousy he felt whenever he saw the looks she gave him, or the glazed appearance her eyes took on whenever she heard his voice. _Why him? Why Mr. Todd? _ There was so much that frightened him about the gloomy barber upstairs, so many things he was yet to understand.

Mrs. Lovett looked up from the toast she was frying, and over to the young boy that sat at the table. _Poor lad. _He had seemed genuinely troubled by the way Sweeney had shouted at her this morning. She felt the tears spring to her eyes again at the thought of Mr. T. _What had I done wrong?_ She hated the way he had looked at her. Those dark eyes flashing with the menacing look that frightened her so much. She knew what kind of anger that man held beneath his solemn face, and it worried her at times. Through all of this though, she knew she was in love with him. It had been a long time since she had felt like this, and was not about to let it go anytime soon. She was startled from her thoughts by the whistling of the teapot, and she rushed back over to take it off the stove. "Ya want some tea, dear?" she asked, pouring a cup for herself, and at Toby's nod, a cup for him. She made him a plate of food and set it in front of him, which he began to eat in silence, only stopping to give her a look that said too much. She sighed heavily, resting her hand on his leg. "Don't be upset, Toby. It's not his fault," she said, looking him in the eye. He narrowed his eyes, then softened them again.

"I-I know it's just that…I can't just watch 'im makin' ya cry like that! You've done so much for me, mum, and I can't watch that!" he said, lowering his eyes down to his plate.

"Oh, love," Mrs. Lovett sighed, wrapping her arms around the boy. "S'alright, I can take care of meself fine. Not to worry," she said. "Now, finish up and we'll get the shop in order, eh?" she said. Toby nodded, quickly finishing and scurrying off to start cleaning up the shop for the day. Mrs. Lovett walked back over to the sink to finish the dishes. She could hear Mr. Todd's steady pacing above her. _Probably broodin' away over the bloody judge_, she thought. God, she hated that judge. He was the reason Sweeney was the way he was. He'd most likely be starting up his own shop of for the day. She could almost hear him sharpening his razors. Those "friends" of his that spilled so many men's blood. She almost snorted at that. _They all do deserve to die. _She thought she should probably go up and talk to him, apologize for what happened this morning. _You're bein' stupid, Nellie, just go up and apologize to the bastard!_ Almost in spite of herself, she began to walk towards the door the led to the staircase. As she ascended the stairs, she felt the twinge of fear again as her thoughts races back to the murderous glint his eyes had taken on before. Pushing those thoughts out, she continued up the stairs, straightening up as she neared the door. She could hear his footsteps through the wood, pacing back and forth as they were before. She bit her lip and turned the doorknob, bracing herself as she creaked it open to reveal the room, and face the man inside.

…**Alright, so I know it seems to be going a little slowly around these parts (I'm not too fond of this chapter myself), but I've seriously got some big plans for this…just need to develop and clear some things up about the plot up before we get to the real luscious stuff. ;)**

**I'm hoping to get another chapter up tomorrow if possible. **

**Anyways…question here. I'm a huge fan of Helena Bonham Carter (part of the reason behind my Sweeney obsession)…and was just wondering…..Has anyone seen the movie "The Heart of Me" that she is in? I just watched it on YouTube and absolutely loved it. Probably one of my favorite Helena movies. It's such a beautiful and sad movie. If you're a Helena fan and haven't seen it….go to youtube and watch it **_**now! **_**lol. It's amazing. )**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Hi everyone! Thanks for the reviews. I love that there's so many other Helena fans here, hehe. I'm glad to hear that lots of you liked "The Heart of Me". Amazing movie, eh? **

**Alright, for some reason this chapter took me ages to write. Some of the emotions were pretty hard to capture. Hope it turned out alright.**

Mrs. Lovett slowly opened the door to see Mr. Todd pacing back and forth in front of his large window, sliding the shining blades of two razors against each other. "Mr. T?" she asked carefully, still standing in the doorframe.

"Get out," he replied, throwing a glare in her direction.

"I need to talk to you," she said, staying where she was.

"I said _leave, _Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney snapped.

"I'm not bloody leavin', Mr. T!" she exclaimed, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind her. Sweeney narrowed his eyes. "I need to talk to ya, that's all."

"What is there to talk about?" he muttered, turning away from her, almost absent-mindedly beginning to sharpen his razors again.

"What the 'ell do ya think there is?!" she nearly shouted back. "I mean to apologize for what 'appened. This morning, I mean," she said, exasperated. Sweeney snapped his eyes back to her. The bitch wouldn't let go, would she? "I didn't mean to upset you," she finished. Sweeney eyed her up and down. Completely in spite of himself, he nodded slowly before turning from her once again. _What is she doing to me? _Bloody woman wouldn't stay out of his mind. He hated her for that. He hated her for trying to make him feel. Make him love. _The judge, Sweeney. You need to kill the judge. _He held a razor up to his eye level, staring at the hard reflection it permitted him. _How you've changed. You're a new man, and this man does not feel. _"Mr. T?" came her voice, breaking his thoughts. "Wot ya thinkin'?" she inquired. Sweeney's eyes rested on her in a fierce look again.

"I need to kill the judge…" he replied, almost absent-mindedly. It was strange how accustomed he was becoming to the idea. To him, those words had become such a part of him that uttering them seemed nonchalant. Mrs. Lovett sighed.

"Can't you think of anything else?" she asked, walking over to him. He looked down at her, the glare still etched into his face.

"I thought I told you to leave, Mrs. Lovett," he said, moving over to the small table where his old, faded photograph of Lucy and Johanna stood. He raised his hand, lightly touching the edges.

"Well I'm telling you that I'm _not_ leaving," she replied defiantly, half stomping over to where he stood to angrily look him in the face. "Look, Mr. T," she started, her voice gaining confidence. "_I_ do wha' I can, all for you, and all _you_ seem to do is sit up 'ere and brood about what happened all those years ago!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with each word.

"Mrs. Lovett…" Sweeney's voice was a warning as he kept his eyes locked on the portrait. Lucy's eyes stared back at him, although it was Mrs. Lovett's gaze that kept invading his mind. He fought back those thoughts, seething. _Sweeney. Todd. Does. Not. Feel…_

"Look at you, there you go again! Always consumed by those stupid thoughts of your goddamned Lucy!" she suddenly burst out, and with those words she brought her palm down to swiftly knock the portrait off the table. The frame shattered as it hit the floor, sending bits of broken glass scattering across the wood. Mrs. Lovett froze as she realized what she had done, wishing with everything that she could take back those words. She hastily began to apologize, only to stop as she saw the look of fury pass over Sweeney's face. Her heart began to pound as he snapped his gaze to her, his eyes flashing with rage.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. T…" she stammered, her voice quivering with fear. Sweeney looked down at the now shattered portrait of his Lucy.

"Do you realize, Mrs. Lovett, that I could kill you? Right here and right now?" he muttered darkly, pulling a razor out of his pocket. Mrs. Lovett trembled. _This is the man you love, Nellie? _She choked back a whimper at the thought. "It would be easy…" he trailed off, running his finger along the gleaming edge of the razor. _You could kill her Sweeney. Slit her throat. As you said, it would be easy... _He raised his eyes again to look at her. He froze when he saw the pleading look in her eyes. The way she shook with fear struck something in him. He looked down at his razor once more before letting his arm drop limp to his size, the razor dangling useless in his hand. There was a tense moment of silence between them. Both breathing hard, staring at each other. Sweeney tightened his grip on the razor again, and suddenly, overcome with an emotion he couldn't define, briskly stepped over to Mrs. Lovett, taking her roughly by the waist, pressing her body forcefully to his. He stared down into her eyes, wide with confusion and fear. His body shook with a strange mixture of rage and lust and he lifted the razor to press at the back of her neck. Mrs. Lovett let a gasp escape from her lips. _What is he doing? _He brought his mouth down on hers, violently slamming his tongue into her mouth, still keeping a tight grip on the razor he held behind her neck. She moaned into his mouth. How this was turning her on was beyond her. It was a mix of fear and desire on her part, and she pressed against him harder, breaking away from his mouth to catch her breath. His grip on her was bruising, and she let out a hiss from the pain and he squeezed his hands around her arms.

Sweeney himself was taken aback at what he was doing. Willing himself to stop, he tried to loosen his grip on her. His own lust was winning the battle though, and he felt the abrasive fabric of his trousers growing more painful by the moment. He despised her. Despised her for making him feel. Making him _weak. _He growled slightly, tightening his grip again. He wanted to hurt her, to make her feel the pain she caused him by making him want her. "I _hate _you!" he spat, roughly pulling her dress up to reveal her bloomers. The huskiness of his voice betraying his words.

Mrs. Lovett let out another gasp as he moved his hand to rub her most intimate area. Frenziedly, she began to kiss his neck. This was most definitely the strangest encounter she had ever had with him. God, she loved him. She really did, and even now when he was being so violent with her, all she wanted was to tell him that over and over.

Sweeney frantically tore at her bloomers, pulling them off in a number of awkward motions. He finally got them off, throwing them to the side before undoing his own trousers. His mind was a blur as he entered her, furiously going at it while she went rigid in his grip.

Mrs. Lovett let out a cry of pleasure as it built up, climaxing in a flare of pleasure. "Mr. T!" she shrieked, tossing her head back as the climax ended, and they lowered to a slower pace. They leaned against each other, limp and gasping from the vigor of what they had just done. After a moment or so of confused silence, they broke away from each other, staring in bewilderment at each other, both faces flushed and still catching their breath. Sweeney's mind was a muddle of emotions. He abruptly turned away, fixing his gaze on the cracked mirror that stood in the corner. Fixing his gaze on anything but her. "I-I'm going to go open the shop. Toby'll be wondering where I went off to…" she said softly, straightening her dress.

"Yes, o-of course," Sweeney muttered in reply. "I'll be setting mine up as well."

"Alright then…I'll…be seeing you later, love," she said, turning to leave the room. Bits of glass from the shattered portrait clinked underneath the heels of her boots as she reached the door and opened it.

"Mrs. Lovett…" Sweeney's voice came from the corner.

"Yes?" she turned around to see him still staring at the mirror.

"I…accept your apology," he said. "I mean…I forgive you. " Mrs. Lovett was taken aback, and stared at him for a moment before shaking herself. He abruptly turned to her, giving her a pointed gaze.

"Thank you, love," she said, and with a small smile walked out the door. It was acceptance she saw in him then, and the thought gave her a slight shiver of delight as she walked down into the kitchen and then down into the bakehouse. Steamy images passed through her mind as she put a tray of yesterday's pies into the oven. She bit her lip. _Dear Lord, we're behind today_, she thought. More images of the previous encounter pierced her thoughts, and she felt a recognizable tingling between her legs. _Oh God…_Today would be most difficult to keep her mind on her work…

**GAH! This took me ages to write. Some of these emotions I tried to convey were so difficult to write down…it's a little complicated to get out in words...and I'm wondering if this seemed a bit all-over-the-place.. I really want this to be something that people like…so if you have any criticism, do share ) lol.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Awww heaps on thanks to everyone who liked\reviewed the last chapter. I'm glad that the basic idea came across kinda clear. ) **

**Anyways, I'm so sorry for how long it took to get this chapter out. I had such a hard time getting inspired for it (and kept getting distracted by the Helena-World forum!), and ended up just letting the story "simmer" for a bit.**

**That said, though, I'm most definitely back. I ended up planning out pretty much every detail of the story and now I'm just so excited to write it!! **

**So I'll stop talking\typing and let you read. Here you go loves! **

Mrs. Lovett hurriedly wiped her brow as she watched yet another body fall from the opening in the ceiling to land in a heavy thud on the stone floor. They were opening for the day in about an hour, and she was working on getting the last bit of pies into the oven. They were dreadfully behind, and the little tryst with Mr. Todd this morning really didn't do much help in that department. She quickly made her way over to the body, taking a moment to stare it down as she pulled a long knife off the table. He was a rather heavyset, middle aged man. His skin let out a sickening ripping noise as she dragged the knife down his chest. _Poor bugger_…she thought, proceeding to pull the flesh off his ribs, the crimson rubies from underneath his skin spilling out onto the cold stone floor.

She thought back to the previous encounter with Mr. Todd. How had that even started anyways? The two of them coming together like that. Words could not describe how genuinely shocked she was by this strange turn of events. Which isn't to say that she was not delighted, which she most _definitely_ was. The way he did it though…he was just so wonderfully _violent_ with it. Not that she would have expected anything else from Mr. T….but _god, _he was good at it. It was like the wish she had carried with her for so long was finally -in some way- really happening, she thought to herself as she continued to peel flesh off Sweeney's unfortunate victim's arms. Oh Mr. T…There was a lot of repressed desire pouring out in each time they had come together. Desire that had been almost habitual from the moment she had first laid eyes on Benjamin Barker….

--

…It had been a week or so since Albert suggested that Mrs. Lovett put an ad in the London paper for a tenant to live upstairs over the pie shop. Business was rather mediocre these days, and the two of them decided it would prove to be a good idea for someone to pay to live upstairs. There had been no takers for the offer yet, and they were beginning to give up.

Mrs. Lovett was in the kitchen rolling dough for a pie crust when a knock sounded at the door. The shop hadn't opened yet and curious to whom it might be, she set down the rolling pin and did her best to brush the flour off her dress. Albert was out gambling with a few mates at the local pub, as was typical of him on a Saturday morning while the pies were still being made. She made her way over to the door, opening it in a swift motion. She froze. Her eyes widening at what she saw.

It was a man with -she guessed it to be- his wife and child. The woman was a lovely, delicate little thing with long yellow hair and a fair, sunny complexion. In her petite arms she held an equally delicate looking child, also incredibly fair with yellow hair that matched its mothers. It was the man, though, that caused her gaze to freeze so. He was tall and well-kept, his dark hair neatly combed. He wore the tidy black suit of a gentleman. His eyes were the most amazing she had ever seen: a beautiful dark brown colour- lighting up his face, and bursting with life and joy. "Er…good morning. I hope I've found the right address. You see, my wife and I need a place to stay. When we saw your ad in the paper, we knew it sounded right. My name is Benjamin Barker, and this is my wife, Lucy, and our daughter, Johanna," he said, giving his family a loving look and holding out his hand. His voice was so gentle, so kind. Mrs. Lovett stared at his hand a moment before shaking herself, and taking hold of it.

"You've most definitely come to the right place, sir. I'm Mrs. Lovett. Me 'usband, Albert, is out at the moment bu' I can show ya upstairs if ya wish," she managed to get out, not taking her eyes off of his.

"Oh, yes of course! Thank you, ma'am," Benjamin exclaimed, taking his wife's arm and following Mrs. Lovett inside the dark kitchen.

"I run meself a pie shop, I do. Meat pies that is. Gets us by," she chuckled lightly with a slight wink at the family. "Just upstairs now, follow me," she said, beginning to ascend the staircase with the Barkers in tow. They finally reached the upstairs room. It had a large window and a small two-person bed in a corner beside a lamp. "It's not much, but I'm sure it'll work," Mrs. Lovett said, gesturing to the sparsely furnished room. Benjamin smiled warmly, taking his wife's hand.

"It'll do just fine. Thank you so much," he said, still smiling at Mrs. Lovett. "How much will that be monthly, than?"

"Oh, not much at all, dear. I'll just work that all out with Albert. Not to worry."

"Oh, Mrs. Lovett?" he suddenly asked. She looked back over to him. "I'm a barber…and I was hoping it would be fine with you and your husband if I set up some sort of parlour up here. Sort of a means of paying the rent," he inquired. Mrs. Lovett nodded.

"Of course you can, love. Fancy that, a barber shop over my pie shop," she replied with a small laugh. "Quite the business opportunity."

Benjamin smiled in thanks. His wife cleared her throat. "It's a lovely room. I'm sure we'll be very happy here," she said, giving a sweet little grin.

"My pleasure. I'll leave ya to it now. Get yaselves settled in," said Mrs. Lovett, turning to leave.

"Thank you, again, Mrs. Lovett," Benjamin said, giving that beautiful smile. She turned around again in the doorframe.

"You're welcome, Mr. Barker," she replied softly, shutting the door behind her. She slowly descended the staircase, Benjamin Barker's face flashing through her mind, a strange tingling feeling starting to burn inside of her. Something had changed, fallen away inside her the moment she saw Mr. Benjamin Barker at her door. She had felt something she had never once felt for Albert. She had felt _love_…

--

…With a final tearing noise, she ripped the last bit of flesh off the body. Wiping her bloody hands on the ragged fabric of her bodice, she hoisted the bones up in her arms and walked over to the furnace. She threw them in, paused for a moment to hear them begin to crackle in the flames, and shut the large iron door. She smiled to herself in fond remembrance of that first meeting with Benjamin. Something indeed had changed in her

that day. Something that would only deepen and progress with time…

--

…It had been a good five weeks since Benjamin and his family had moved in to the room upstairs, and a good five weeks of suppressed desire on Mrs. Lovett's part. He was such a pleasure to have around. He seemed to fill up each room her stepped into. There was this way about him, a certain unknown light that always proved to keep her holding on even on these dreary days. He spoke to her with such warmth and compassion she had never gotten from Albert. He gave her a hope for better days.

_He belongs to Lucy…_she told herself everyday. Every time she felt that tell-tale tingling between her legs. _He belongs to her, never you. _It never did any good, as she always found herself lost in sighs deep in the night, imagining Mr. Benjamin Barker's beautiful face over hers as she reached down to touch herself, building up until she was nearly gasping with pleasure into the darkness. The image faded however, every time she looked across the bed to see not Benjamin, but the fat excuse of a husband who lay next to her. The ever more frequent tears always sprang to her eyes when she pulled herself back to reality.

She would never forget the afternoon when the Barkers were out at the market, and Albert out at the pub, when she let herself into Benjamin's shop. She smiled to herself, knowing exactly what she had come to see. She walked over to the small table that stood by the bed, her eyes locked on the metal box that was atop. She opened it gingerly, nearly gasping at the brilliant shine of the razors. Chased silver handles. She knew how much her prized these. Slowly taking one out, she cradled it in her hand. It was beautifully cool and smooth. She imagined him holding these firmly in his own hands, silkily running it across a person's skin, leaving a smooth line. Her lips parted slightly as she held the cold silver blade to her neck, moving the flat edge of the blade down her body as the excitement between her legs built up. She imagined his face, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he artfully laid his precise administrations upon the stubble on a customer's face. That was what did it. She let out a final, blissful gasp, clenching the razor in her hand for a moment before carefully placed it back in the box. She almost had to laugh to herself. Good, upright Mr. Barker. Little did he know about the baker who lived downstairs.

He consumed most of her thoughts. From the moment Albert left in the morning to the moment the last customer left at night, it was _him_ on her mind. She hated that pretty little wife of his. The women to whom all of _his _thoughts were devoted to. If it wasn't for Lucy, he would be hers. But no, it was herself that was left with Albert Lovett. The man who had dashed her hopes of a life and marriage full of love and passion. The kind she had always read about, and dreamed about since she was a young girl. Benjamin had brought that hope, those dreams back into her life. He was the breath of fresh air she had always needed…

--

…The smile faded off her face as the day when Mr. Barker was arrested floated through her mind, piercing the happy memories. She lifted up the remains of what she had peeled off the body, absent-mindedly carrying it over to the grinder where she mechanically dropped it in. Her eyes glazed, she began to turn the crank with considerable effort. Though, her mind was not in the present task. Her mind was indeed elsewhere. The day Mr. Barker had been called off to prison. The day her life changed

once again…

--

…It had been a lovely day otherwise. The sun was shining, a rarity for this day and age when the sky was almost perpetually blocked out by the thick smoke that poured out of the factory chimneys. Mrs. Lovett had begun making the pies early, giving Mr. Barker a small smile and wave as he passed through the kitchen with Lucy and Johanna.

"We're stepping out to the market for an hour or so. Won't be long," he rang out, giving her a jovial glance as he exited the room. Mrs. Lovett grinned, beginning to roll the dough. _He really does light up my day, _she thought to herself, proceeding with the piemaking.

The morning went well. She opened shop as usual; Albert out gambling with mates yet again. She really thought nothing of how Mr. Barker and his family were gone a the market for much longer than he had alleged they would be.

It was around noon when a desperate sounding knock came from the door. She hurried over to open it, revealing a flustered and troubled looking Lucy, Johanna in her trembling arms and her eyes moist with what looked like tears. "Good heavens, love, what's wrong?" Mrs. Lovett asked, letting her inside.

"It's Benjamin, Mrs. Lovett…th-they've taken him a-away-" she sobbed, collapsing into a chair. Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened.

"Taken him, where Lucy?" she asked, her heart sinking. Lucy looked at her with pained eyes.

"To prison," was her quivering answer. Mrs. Lovett's heart fully dropped.

"Why?" she managed to choke out, tears springing to her own eyes.

"It was Judge Turpin," Lucy replied. "He wouldn't tell me what it was Benjamin did. No trial, nothing," she said before fading into a fresh set of tears.

"You mean," Mrs. Lovett began, "That he is _gone_?" Lucy nodded, lowering her eyes to look into Johanna's face.

It was that moment that Mrs. Lovett's world came crashing down. Lucy had locked herself upstairs, only coming down every so often to make that once a week trip to the market. Judge Turpin had come around every day with a flower in his hand, asking desperately for Lucy.

The rest seemed like such a blur. The beadle had come one evening, saying that a contrite Turpin had sent for Lucy. Poor foolish girl. She had gone with him of course. That was the last evening she had seen Lucy truly right in the mind. The next day, she attempted to take her own life. It was arsenic, they said. The men who came to take her to Bedlam, that is. Word was that Turpin raped her. Poor thing. The day after, Turpin came for the girl, Johanna. He said he would raise her as his own. Quite frankly, she was glad to be rid of them. One less reminder of Benjamin.

The next few years after were a living hell for Mrs. Lovett. Albert was gone drinking and gambling most of the time, only coming home late at night, eager for his manly desires to be filled by his "Oh-so-obliging" wife. She seemed to feel more and more downtrodden each day. Money was hard to come by, and the pie shop business was slowly diminishing.

Fifteen long years later, there door to the pie shop opened. Mrs. Lovett looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. There hadn't been a customer for weeks, and she gaped at the dark figure that stood in the doorway. He looked so familiar. She invited him in, fed him one of the now terrible pies and some cold ale to wash it down with. Little did she know that it would be this moment that would change her life yet again…

--

A piece of wood cracking inside the furnace jolted Mrs. Lovett from her thoughts. She had completed grinding that particular lot of flesh. She remembered the pies in the oven upstairs. Letting go of the grinder, she brushed her hands off on her bodice once again, and started up the staircase. Sweeney Todd's face kept slipping its way into her thoughts. _At this rate, we'll never open today. _She thought back to the memories she had just gone over. It was true, Benjamin Barker was a dead man. Dead for fifteen years. It was now Sweeney Todd. The man infuriated her, turned her weak.. She absolutely _hated _him for doing this to her, but she knew she couldn't resist him. Him in all his dark, dangerous beauty. She pursed her lips as she entered the kitchen, attempting to push the thoughts out of her mind. They were so dreadfully behind today…

**Wow, this one turned out to be pretty long with not much getting accomplished :S. I just felt there needed to be a little background information on Mrs. Lovett before we progressed any further. Awww, lol, I felt so connected with her after I wrote this. **

**Anyways, please review! hugs**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**Thank for the reviews. I wasn't too much of a fan of that last chapter personally, but glad to know that some thought it was decent lol. I'm really excited now, though, because I've finally got all the background\buildup parts of the story over with and now I can focus on the drama and storyline (not to mention smutty sweenett scenes)…XD. Although this scene isn't so nice. ****:'(**

That evening was near unbearable for Sweeney. The hours seemed to drag on and on until it was finally time to flip his sign so that it read "closed". With an angrily tired sigh he sank down on his barber's chair, closing his eyes as adrenaline from tonight's throat-slittings pulsed through his veins. Tonight though, revenge was not the only thing on his mind. _She _was downstairs. Probably cleaning up shop with Toby. He felt his manhood tingle slightly at the thought of her. _Shit_, he thought, trying to chase the images of her gasping and writhing underneath him out of his head. They hadn't gone away all night.

His eyes snapped open, moving to the area on the floor where he knew the smashed remains of his beloved picture of Lucy were. He hadn't bothered to clean them up. He lifted himself out of the chair, slowly walking over to where it lay on the ground. He bent down, lightly taking the pieces between his fingers, brushing them off the faces of his lost family. His tender thoughts were suddenly pierced with blinding rage. No matter how hard he tried, he could never fully kill Benjamin and the memories that came along with the past life. He could never escape the fact that even Sweeney Todd could feel. Mrs. Lovett, that abhorrent woman, had brought that reality crashing down on his each time she came into his view. There was no breaking away from this. He stood up, swinging his foot hard into the metal side of the barber chair.

He needed some way to get rid of these thoughts, these _feelings _that Sweeney Todd was not supposed to feel. He knew what he needed right now.

Hastily making his way to the cupboard, he swung it open, fumbling around inside for the treasure he knew lay inside. _There it is_, he thought with a smirk as his hand brushed the smooth bottle. Hard gin. He hadn't had use for this since he was in prison. He needed it tonight, to numb the pain the remains of his shattered past life gave him, and also to numb the pain of the present. The pain she brought on to him. The reminder that deep down, he _was_ still Benjamin Barker.

Sweeney brought the bottle to his lips, wincing as the strong liquid burned its way down his throat, settling in the pit of his stomach with a delightfully warm feeling. He quickly drank the rest of the bottle, feeling the hazy light-headedness that promised to follow. His vision spinning, he reached clumsily for the second bottle, swallowing it quickly. He shakily brought himself to his feet, the blissful forgetfulness that the gin granted him radiating through his body. _What the hell am I up here for_…he thought, his muddled head slowly trying to process his surroundings. A wonderful notion came into his mind. _More gin downstairs…_

He half-limped over to the door, heavily leaning against it as he swung it open. Somehow he got himself down the stairs, bursting through the door to find himself in the empty kitchen. Not knowing exactly where to find the gin, he began to tear through the cupboards, dropping cups and dishes on the floor as he eagerly went on with his drunken pursuit.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened as she heard the crashing sound of broken dishes coming from the kitchen. Toby had gone to bed around half an hour ago, and there was no other person she thought could be in there. She ran in from the living room, horrified at what she saw.

"Mr. T!" she shouted. "Wot the bloody 'ell are ya doin?"

Sweeney's eyes snapped over to the doorframe where he had heard the voice. His blurred vision coming into focus on the person who stood there. A woman…dark looking woman at that. "Mrs. Lovett…" he murmured, his voice thick with gin.

_He's drunk…_she thought to herself, a slight fear piercing through her heart. She had never seen him like this before.

"Ahhh," Sweeney sighed, stumbling over to where she stood in the doorway. Grabbing her tightly by the waist, he roughly pressed his lips to hers, trying to force his tongue into her mouth, his hand jabbing its way between her legs. She pushed him off hard, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Yer bloody man!" she exclaimed angrily, her eyes flashing into his. Sweeney clumsily walked back over to her.

"Come 'ere…" he slurred, pulling at the fabric of her dress. "Get on the floor…" he added, still wrestling with her hems while she struggled against him.

"Get bloody _off_ me!" she shouted, shoving him by the chest. Sweeney regained his already feeble balance, staring at her. His liquor-clouded eyes taking on a blazing rage, a blast of fury beginning to vibrate through his body. Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened in fear, swallowing it back she looked into his eyes again. "Now quiet down, Toby's in the next room!" she exclaimed, motioning towards the doorway.

Sweeney's eyes snapped back to stare her down angrily. "Shut the bloody fuck up!" he yelled, winding his arm back to bring it down hard on her cheek. Mrs. Lovett stumbled from the force of the blow. She looked back at him, his dark form heaving with rage. Her eyes moved to the razor she knew he held in his pocket. _He tried to kill you before, he could do it this time. You know he could._ He moved in for her again, and she ducked narrowly dodging his fist. His eyes flashed. He moved back again, this time pounding her hard on her shoulder, sending her falling for the floor. Tears stinging in her eyes, she tried to ignore the pain that was shooting through her body. _He doesn't mean it, _she told herself over and over as he shouted things at her. _Deep down he needs you. _She willed herself to believe it, cowering on the floor until –she guessed- he finally got tired and stumbled his way back upstairs. She heard the door slam shut, his steps she could hear through the ceiling.

Sweeney collapsed into his chair, his head throbbing from the drink. It was such a blur what had just happened, so much he couldn't remember half of it. He could remember the rage, and then nothing. Gin, the drink that got him by for so long in that damned Australian prison. It had gotten him by tonight as well -made him forget for at least a short while.

Mrs. Lovett pulled herself up off the floor and limped towards her room, trying to hold back the tears until she got inside. She nearly fell through the door, collapsing on her bed in a fit of sobs, still dressed. _This__ is the man you love, Nellie? _To think she actually allowed herself to believe that they could ever be more. Her heart felt like it had been crushed. He had actually _hit _her. She was now choking with sobs, her eyes stinging and swollen with tears. When at last her sobs faded slightly, she felt herself growing more tired by the second. She willed herself to fall asleep, forget about the pain she felt physically and emotionally by what had just happened, to somehow find peace in the dreams that would be gone by morning. Then it would be back, and she would have to believe the lies she told herself again. Still crying silently, she drifted off to sleep.

**That was really hard to write. I **_**hate**_** hurting Mrs. Lovett like that, but don't worry it will get better. Promise!! ok? ****Hope you guys thought it was alright. I might be able to get another chapter written tonight, and put up tomorrow so keep watching! 3**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**Thanks for all your reviews. I'm really enjoying writing this, and it makes me so happy every time I get a review! Thanks so much, loves! 3**

Mrs. Lovett's woke up the next morning, her eyes still painfully swollen with tears. London's muted daylight poured in through the still-open curtains. Her limbs were so sore. It took a moment to process why they hurt so much, and she blinked back the tears still prickling at her eyes. She winced –clutching her shoulder- as she pulled herself off the bed. Looking down, she realized she still had her dress from last night on. _God, I'm a mess, _she thought, making a hasty attempt to fix her hair up as she caught a glimpse of the state of it in the mirror. _Wouldn't want him to see me like this, would I…_ she started to think, promptly stopping herself as her heart sank. _What the hell are you thinking, Nellie, _she thought, looking at her disheveled reflection. _The man bloody __hit __you! _She thought back to the hate-filled look in his eyes, in her mind repeating to herself what she had the previous night. That it was just from the gin. He didn't really mean it. Deep down, he did love her…

Sweeney's eyes slowly opened, his head throbbing with pain. _What the fuck? _He was sitting in his barber chair, head slumped over and limbs splayed out. _When did I get here…._he thought, scanning the room over. His eyes came to rest on the empty gin bottles lying in the corner, realization coming over him. It had been a long time since he'd drank like that. Let himself completely fall inside himself. He groaned, lifting himself slowly out of the chair. God, his head hurt. He began to walk towards the door, taking the staircase down. What he needed now was some tea…maybe that would clear his head a bit.

"Ya alright, mum?" Toby asked as he entered the kitchen, brown eyes laced with worry as he took in his mum's disarrayed appearance. She raised her dark-circled eyes to weakly smile at him.

"It's fine love. Just a bad night's all," she answered, lowering her eyes again to the tea she was making. Toby frowned, sitting down at the table, fidgeting with his knife. His eyes followed her as she dully poured three cups of tea, noting how she bit her lip slightly every so often. Almost as if she was holding back tears.

He was worried about her. Genuinely worried. He absolutely loathed Mr. Todd at moments like these, when the pain he was causing his beloved mum was so apparent. He knew she loved him, and this was what he did to her? He held back a disgusted snort, thanking Mrs. Lovett as she placed his breakfast in front of him.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes snapped up as she heard steps descending from the outside staircase. She quickly turned her head the other direction as he came in through the door, avoiding looking at him as he took the chair across from Toby. Toby stared the dark man over. He could smell the gin on him, strongly at that. Mr. Todd was hung over.

Mrs. Lovett cleared her throat lightly. "I made ya some tea, love," she said quietly, a little above a whisper. Her voice still raw from crying. Mr. Todd grunted in reply, not looking up. She walked over, placing the tea in front of him. "It'll do you good," she said, smelling the drink that lingered around him.

After a painfully tense and silent breakfast, Mrs. Lovett sent Toby to set up the shop for the day, which he happily obliged, but not without a revolted sneer at Sweeney, who stared blankly into his teacup. "I'd better get the kitchen cleaned up, lots of pies to make today," she said hoarsely, with a forced laugh that made Sweeney shoot her a sideways glance. She picked up a cloth, beginning to mechanically scrub the countertop. _The bastard hasn't said a word about it,_ she thought, forcing back the tears that seemed to be unending these days. She continued to scrub the countertop, anger boiling underneath as she watched him sip his tea. She scrubbed harder, seething as she laid her frustrations upon the stains that dotted the wood surface. Suddenly, something snapped and she tossed the rag down. "Mr. T, do ya have any idea what went on last night?" she said, sharply looking at him.

Sweeney put down his teacup, staring at the woman behind the counter.

I drank," he replied tersely. "Wot of it?" he snapped, turning his eyes from her. Mrs. Lovett's own eyes widened. _He doesn't even bloody remember! _She thought in disbelief. "Oh so you just drank and that was all?" she sarcastically retorted. Sweeney rolled his eyes. The woman's chatter was doing nothing for his head.

"Yes, Mrs. Lovett, I drank," he snapped in reply. Mrs. Lovett stepped out from behind the counter, standing directly in front of him.

"Ya 'urt me, Mr. T," she said, looking down at him. He abruptly looked up at her, into her anger-filled eyes.

"I…wot?" he asked, squinting from the ache behind his eyes.

"Ya got bloody drunk up in your shop and you came down those stairs and-" she took a breath, "-and ya told me to get down on the floor and when I wouldn't ya 'it me!" she exclaimed, voice thick with the threat of tears. Sweeney lowered his gaze in disbelief. _I hit her? _He thought. The idea shouldn't horrify him like it did. He was supposed to hate her. He was supposed to _want _to hurt her! He looked up at her again. She was really crying now, her shoulders shaking as she lowered herself into the chair across from him. Sweeney's dark eyes widened in disbelief as he shook his head. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as he watched her cry. Hating himself for it, he moved his hand to place on top of hers. She looked up, bewildered as she stared over at him.

"I don't know what came over me…the gin…I-" he cut himself off. "I'm…sorry," he finished. "I…would never want to hurt you like that," Sweeney got out. Mrs. Lovett shook herself in disbelief. Was Sweeney Todd _apologizing_? She forced herself to keep her face straight.

"Well, ya did," she snapped, looking away and wiping the tears off her cheeks. She got up and walked back over to the counter, beginning to scrub again. That one stain was most difficult to get off. Sweeney's eyes followed her, narrowed.

"It was the gin, Mrs. Lovett," he said slowly. She replied with silence. Sweeney seethed. The woman was ridiculous.

"And who's to say the "gin" won't make ya do it again?" she snapped. The tears were gone. Sweeney suddenly stood up, pushing his chair aside.

"I say that!" he exclaimed, making his way over to Mrs. Lovett to stand directly in front of her. "Be cause I'm bloody _sorry_!" he near shouted, bringing his hand up to tightly clutch the back of her neck and brought his lips down hard on hers. _The man's bloody crazy! _Mrs. Lovett thought, her eyes wide before closing them as she let a moan escape from her own mouth. Sweeney broke away, storming back across the room to stomp back up to his shop, letting the kitchen door slam behind him. Mrs. Lovett stood stunned behind the counter, gasping in shock, the rag lying on the floor.

It was all so twisted. He had bloody hit her, for god's sakes. He had hurt her. How could she want a man like that so badly? The problem was, she _did_ want him. Terribly. It got worse every day, and the occasional little "release" they shared every now and again did nothing to help there. Her lips still stinging, she proceeded to get the ingredients for the pie crusts ready. Today promised to be quite busy.

Even the way his eyes flashed in fury got her going on occasion. The way they pierced into her own in all their dark beauty…the knowledge that he indeed was a danger to her and the thrill that came along with that. God, was she actually getting aroused by this? With a slight glance at the doorway Sweeney had just exited, she adjusted her corset to enhance her cleavage even more. Slightly smugly, she eyed her reflection in the window that was across the room. She definitely looked a little better than this morning, and the corset was of assistance there. _There you go again, Nellie. _There was no knowing whether or not Mr. T would come down to the pie shop today, what with last night and this morning's occurrences after all. But really, who did know with that man. All she knew was that she wanted to be ready for him.

Because she wanted him. No matter how much he frightened and hurt her at times, she wanted him. There was no denying the lust that his eyes took on in those moments either. There was something there, she would tell herself, something she couldn't name, and probably never would be able to.

Proceeding to set up the kitchen, she eyed her reflection one last time. Yes, the corset was most _definitely_ doing its job…

**GAH, rambled a little bit at the end and I didn't like how I finished, but I hope you liked this chapter. We got Sweeney to apologize...at least as much as Sweeney can at this point. It's a start, right? I'm really excited to write this next chapter. As in, really really excited. Hehe… just a warning though, it's going to be close to ****ALLLL**** smut, dears. Thought we needed a little extra dose of Sweenett in this fic. *winks***


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**I'm sorry this took so bloody long!!! I went to school one day and came back hoping to start writing, and was told by my mom that she had to take the computer in to get fixed or something. Arghhh. **

**That aside, I gave you all a little warning in the last chapter that it's going to be a rather -*cough*-… smutty chapter. **

**Hope you enjoy…XD**

Sweeney angrily burst through his door, slamming it behind him. He had done it again. Gotten so overcome by _emotions _that he had lost his control. He sank -still seething- into his chair. He wasn't supposed to be sorry, to feel guilty about what he had done. _Sweeney Todd does not feel, _he repeated to himself over and over again. It was her bloody fault. His world as Sweeney was strictly monochromatic…and she had brought a burst of colour, of emotion that even he couldn't control. _Benjamin_ felt, Sweeney Todd did not. He looked over to the portrait that was still lying broken on the ground. Walking over to it, he stared it over. Lucy and Johanna…they were all that mattered. He would avenge them; he would feel the Judge's bastard throat ripping beneath the silver of his razor. He would feel his blood spilling…._god_ he hated that man. He began to lift the pieces of the shattered frame one by one, setting them on the table. Taking a razor in his hand, he raised it to the dull sunlight that came in through the window. He shuddered in vengeful delight at the thought of the rubies from the Judge's neck spilling over the smooth silver blade. It was rather funny, how the more consumed with his revenge he got, the more faded his memories of his wife and daughter became. _There must be a way to the Judge…_but bloody when? He needed to feel him go limp, hear his scream, watch him _die_ before his own eyes. Throwing the razor to the floor, he felt his body begin to shudder with rage. He needed an outlet, a way to vent these frustrations…His mind was brought back to Mrs. Lovett. Thoroughly enraged with himself, he began to walk towards the door. _She __is__ very good at it…_

Back downstairs, the pie-crust making was proceeding as normal. Mr. T in his shop upstairs, Toby setting up the shop, and her own self down in the kitchen. She quickly moved from task to task, taking out the ingredients one by one. Eggs, butter, milk, and of course, flour. She began to mix them together, slowly to create a dough of perfect consistency. These were the _best_ pies in London, were they not? She allowed herself a small smile as she teased the dough between her fingers, dusting the countertop with a handful of flour. These pies were part of the reason why she had met Mr. Todd in the first place. Stupid pies, she probably would have a lot less on her mind without them. Beginning to softly knead the dough with the rolling pin, she was suddenly startled as the door burst open.

"Mr. T!" she squeaked, dropping the rolling pin. "Ya startled me!"

Sweeney didn't respond, but slowly walked into the room, eyeing her over. That corset did look marvelous on her. "What's on the menu today?" he inquired.

Mrs. Lovett rolled her eyes. "Meat pies, ya bloomin' idiot. If I'm not mistaken, it's you who supplies the ingredients," she answered, not looking at him. "I'm still bloody mad at you, if ya haven't guessed."

Sweeney nodded. "Oh, I've guessed," he replied, still eyeing her over. _Bastard, _she thought, though the desire building in the pit of her stomach wasn't helping much. He did have that effect on her. Almost absent-mindedly, she straightened her bodice, drawing Sweeney's eyes to her tremendously enhanced bosom. _Does she have a bloody inkling what she is doing? _Sweeney thought, his pants growing rather uncomfortable as he fought to keep his manhood under control. Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Well, if ya just came down to stand an' stare I'm gonna have to ask ya to leave, dear," she said, exasperated. "I've got meself pie crusts to bake."

"Oh bloody hell woman!" Sweeney exclaimed, striding over to her, pressing her backwards against the countertop. Mrs. Lovett tried in vain to push him off, though her womanhood was otherwise screaming not to.

" Mr. T! We're opening soon!" she hissed.

"Will you shut up?" Sweeney huskily shot back, silencing her with his lips, pressing her further backwards onto the counter. The flour dusted across it clinging to her dress. Oh, she hated him for doing this…not that it was entirely unpleasant. He rammed his tongue between her lips, searching every bit of it. Mrs. Lovett went rather limp at that, moaning into his mouth, arousal building, her back pressed flat against the counter. Sweeney pushed his chest into her body. The pressure from his body weight against her body was delightful, and her breath came out in a heavy sigh. He moved his mouth off hers, and down to her neck. Nipping at her throat, he flicked his tongue over her neck, running it lightly over her jawline as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Mrs. Lovett let out another moan, pressing her hips into his. No matter how much she despised him, or how much he frightened her at times, it was moments like this when she was all his. She could feel his hard want straining against the fabric of his trousers, and through her skirt.

Sweeney moved his mouth down, biting gently at her collarbone before taking her breasts tightly in his hands. He buried his face between them, growling from deeply inside his throat. Mrs. Lovett whispered his name. "_Sweeney_…" the word was like chocolate on her tongue. Her chest heaved as he licked at bit at the tops of her breasts, his tongue tracing over the whiteness of her skin. Mrs. Lovett writhed in his grasp, bringing her own teeth down to bite hard on his shoulder. Sweeney growled, viciously pulling the hem of her heavy skirt up to place his hand…on her bloomers. Bloody things. "Take them off!" he hissed. Lovett nodded between breaths, obligingly puling them down and dropping them to the ground. Sweeney gave a satisfied grunt, and placed his hand on her damp curls. Mrs. Lovett let out a gasp. He began to rub vigorously, pressing the little swollen bud with one hand while the other found its way to her opening. Mrs. Lovett moaned as he entered her with his fingers, moving them in and out of her wetness. She rocked her hips in time with him, pressing them hard into his. Sweeney could feel her beginning to clench around his fingers, and promptly pulled them out, leaving her gasping as she clutched hard to his shoulders. "I need ya inside me," she hissed, her slick womanhood burning for Sweeney.

He shot his stare at her. Those dark, intense, beautifully dangerous eyes piercing into her own. "The floor might be easier," he replied, roughly grabbing her body closer to his before she could reply. With that, he swiftly lifted her off the counter, pulling her down on to the floor, and knocking the container of flour off the counter where it landed on the wood floor beside them in a poof of white.

"Ooh, Mr. T!" she squeaked as he rolled back on top of her, brushing flour from his face and furiously tugging at her hems with one hand as he unzipped his trousers with the other. In one motion, he quickly entered her, ramming his erect manhood inside of her. A loud gasp escaped Mrs. Lovett's mouth, and she arched her back, coaxing him even further into her as he built up his energy. He began to thrust harder, pounding her into the floor as she threw her head back, shrieking from unbearable pleasure. _The woman does not shut up, _he thought to himself, allowing a small smirk before proceeding to move himself in and out of her. Pouring his frustrations into her, releasing the pent up rage and confusion on her body.

They were almost over the edge. Rolling around on the floor amid the spilled flour, their moans and sighs increasing in vigor. With one final thrust, Sweeney did it. They explosively climaxed with each other, stiff in each other's limbs, teeth grinding, nails digging into flesh. Pain and pleasure.

Then was the release, a slow dénouement to the eruption of blissfulness they had just brought upon each other. Still entwined on the hard wooden floor, it took a moment before they moved. "Mr. Todd," Mrs. Lovett whispered, still quivering. "We've got the shops to open…" she trailed off, shakily unwrapping herself from his grasp. She stood up off the floor, attempting to dust the flour off herself. Sweeney pulled himself up, on unsteady legs maneuvered himself to sit at the table. Mrs. Lovett silently walked back behind the counter, lifting the rolling pin up and beginning to roll the dough. Her mind completely elsewhere.

It was a moment before she set it down and looked over at Sweeney. "You're bloody good at that you know," she stated, before going back to the dough. Sweeney looked up, giving a reply in the form of a grunt. _So is she…_he thought, though chose not to voice this opinion. They stayed silent. Sweeney's mind churning with the mess of thoughts. _She is very good at that…so different than Lucy…_His heart lurched at that. His darling Lucy..._When you kill the Judge, Sweeney. This will all be over…_

"Mr. T," Mrs. Lovett said finally. "Ya better be getting back to your shop. We'll 'ave no meat for the pies…" she half whispered, opening the oven and setting a number of pie crusts inside. Sweeney nodded, straightening his clothing and making his way over to the door. Opening it, he stopped suddenly at what he saw. There was a man approaching the shop, one he hadn't seen for a while now.

"We got company, Mr. T?" Mrs. Lovett's slightly nervous voice came from behind him. Sweeney nodded, stepping out the door as the young man approached.

"Mr. Todd!" the boy's voice rang out. Sweeney gave a half smile of fond welcome.

"Hello Anthony," was what he said.

**That was fun to write. A little too much fun I think. ;)**

**The next chap will be up quicker, since we've got the computer back. I'm getting really excited about this. :)**


	10. IMPORTANT NOTICE!

Gah, hey everybody.

I know I've left "Bloodstained Passion" in the dust for a pretty damn loooong time, and I have no good excuse except that I've lacked inspiration.

So I have news for you all.

I've recently gotten a MEGA inspiration again. I really didn't like the direction that Bloodstained Passion was going, it really wasn't what I had in mind when I originally planned it and with all these new ideas, how could I go on with something that I didn't really like and wasn't motivated to write?

So Bloodstained Passion will be no more. (but fret not…there is MORE TO COME *read on*)

I've been working on a new fanfic that will take a bit of a different spin than where this was heading. It will be called "Not Like I Dreamed", and will carry a bit of the general plotline of Bloodstained Passion, but will move in a completely different direction. It'll be a bit darker, and all in all better I'm hoping.

And not to worry dears, there will be PLENTY of deliciously sexy Sweenett. ;)

So please be sure to look for my new Sweenett fanfic "Not Like I Dreamed" coming out VERY soon :)

*Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed BP…and to those who've recently messaged me asking me where I've been lol. Not to worry, there will be much more to come*

kdklfjglOOH and also, I'll most likely be running another shorter multi-chap alongside it, still deciding on a title. It will be sort of a "before Benjamin Barker became Sweeney" and I'm hoping it'll be pretty good.

Love you all tons and look out for what's coming up!! 33

--leannaa


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